Palaver Street
by James May
Summary: Dementors in Little Whinging result in Harry spending his summer with Severus Snape and Remus Lupin. In a street where secrets are far and few, Harry meets new friends, learns new ways and realises that his greasy potions professor is "kind of ok." RxR
1. Grimmauled Place

_A - I own none of the characters, they all belong to J.K Rowling. _

_B - I am going to let this fiction roll as it pleases, see where it takes us. _

_C- I hope to see you all in future chapters. _

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The musky scent of stale tobacco and Firewhisky engulfed Harry's nostrils into a clogged frenzy. His eyes began to water at the stench and despite the bitter July night, the light drizzle stirring from an oncoming rain cloud and the sharp lash of mile per hour winds against his bare forearms, Harry could not will himself into resting his head against the tattered jacket of the man named Mundungus Fletcher. It was becoming a regular occurrence for Harry to randomly disappear through some strange manner or transportation from his Aunt and Uncle's house every summer, to only ever wind up back at the Weasley's house, sporting a tale of adventures and most often misfortunes. This time however, his tale was filled with dread, near death experiences and expulsion. Harry remembered little of the attack. However one feeling remained; a familiar feeling of despair and unhappiness, and Harry wasn't sure if this feeling stemmed from the presence and attack of Dementor's on Little Whinging or due to the reality of what he was soon to face: Expulsion from Hogwarts, never being able to use magic and never seeing his friends again. As he shifted himself into yet another groin crunching position on the back of the bandy broomstick, his arms clutched unbearably to the greasy jacket of a man claiming to be "a friend of Dumbledore's", Harry wondered if life would ever be the same again and if there was a possibility that maybe, just maybe Hagrid would allow him to come train as a groundskeeper.

The arrival at Grimmauled Place, of which Harry later learned was to be the upcoming headquarters for secret meetings and plots against the reign of Voldemort, could be described as eccentric, loud and emotional. The old house creaked every few inches, once and a while a miniature dust cloud would erupt from the teacups and cracked china set and Harry could have sworn he saw a family of door mice scurrying to and from the kitchen to the cellar. Nothing however, not even the piercing screech of Mrs Black, Sirius's mother, could drown out the horrified roars unleashed from Harry and Sirius in unison.

"Palaver street!" Sirius barked, slamming a hand against the wooden table, "You want Harry Potter, the boy who lived, my godson - to spend his entire summer cooked up in Palaver street, with those… those…"

"With your friend Sirius." Professor Dumbledore claimed.

A dark looked crossed Sirius brow and Harry couldn't help but notice the funny look plaguing his godfather's features. Sirius crossed his arms.

"There's absolutely no way this is acceptable, and as much as I respect your opinion, Dumbledore, my duties to care for Harry cannot allow me bring this misfortune upon him."

Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow, eyeing Sirius's stubborn posture over his half moon spectacles. "Then you see fit he reside here?"

"I do."

"You see fit he spend his entire summer cooked up in a dusty aged house, cleaning and battling with treacherous tantrums from portraits? You feel it necessary to put your godson's life at risk in a house whose boundaries are so unformed that even the powers of a first year could surpass them?"

Sirius's posture faltered. He glanced to Harry, then shaking his head, silently agreed with Dumbledore's decision.

"Then it is settled, he will leave immediately."

Harry gawped. "I have no say?" he demanded, glaring at Dumbledore, "After all I've been through: Dementor's, expulsion, worry , you decide that just like a light my faith lies in your hands and you feel free to ship me off to just about anywhere?"

"I feel that your safety, as my student and as your Headmaster, for the next three years, that yes, your faith lies within my hands. I also feel, Harry that, nothing eases a paining head more than a good dose of lemon sweetness." From within his pocket, Professor Dumbledore produced a bronze tin of Sherbet Lemons.

Harry, to confused and annoyed by the situation, ignored Dumbledore's offering, and instead shook his head. " I don't understand." he said, "I broke the rules. I used underage magic. I showed myself in front of Dudley, a muggle, I -I…"

"I think it best Harry, if you come to realise that not very often things work to our favour and then when they do, for unknown reasons at that, it is best left un-questioned. Now while I arrange transportation, do sit and enjoy the warmth and sweetness of a well deserved cup of tea. "

Professor Dumbledore exited the dusty kitchen, humming tunelessly to himself. Sirius pulled up a seat next to Harry and poked wordlessly at the splintering table.

"It's good to see you again, Harry. Even beneath these circumstances." he said, keeping his gaze on the table.

Harry mimicked his actions, picking at the other side of the table. "You too, Sirius. You look really well, despite your circumstances." Harry noted a glum look replacing the light blush to Sirius's face.

"It's only the thoughts of war that keep me sane, Harry. I know that must sound odd to you, but if it weren't for Voldemort's sudden rise to power, this house would remain idle. Now that he's back, I have company."

"I understand. Sometimes, I feel that way too." Harry agreed. "Like, when I'm at the Dursley's, the only time I ever get to see friends any bit earlier than start of term is if there's a problem - I get thrown out, dementor attacks, being rescued by flying cars because they barricaded my window shut."

"Flying cars?"

Harry smiled. "My second year. Ron and his twin brothers, Fred and George, they hadn't heard from me all summer and presumed the worse, so they rescued me in an enchanted Ford Angula. My uncle fell out the window and everything."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter and Harry was pleased to see the sadness leave his eyes. It wasn't very often these days that Harry smiled. His nights were still haunted by echoing cries from the tri-wizard tournament. The terrified look etched across the marble face of a dead Cedric Diggory washed in and out of focus every night, almost close enough for Harry to reach, but then quickly snatched away by that familiar green light.

"Why were there Dementor's in Little Whinging? Aren't they supposed to be confined to Azkaban?"

Sirius nodded, pushing a cup of tea toward Harry. "I don't know Harry, I honestly cannot answer that. I've had little contact with anyone, except for Dumbledore and a few order members. Mostly talks of charms and enchantments to seal this house are what I hear of. I hear little of much importance Harry, very little."

Silence fell about the kitchen again and Harry stared into the empty fire grate. He knew how Sirius felt, all to well. No one ever felt that Harry was old enough to know the truth, everyone kept the important things from him, as if in some hope that they would go away. They never did though, they only duplicated. His mind wondered for the first time to Palaver street. What was this place? Who lived there? Why was he going there? And why was Sirius so angry about Harry going there? Before he had the opportunity to ask his godfather any of these questions, Dumbledore returned to the kitchen.

"Well that's all settled then, we shall leave now. Do come along Harry."

Harry glanced to Sirius, who nodded. "Sirius?"

"Owl me, won't you?" Sirius said, rising from the chair. "Whenever you can, whenever you want. With any questions, any news, anything."

Harry stood in front of him, shocked almost to silence by the pleading tone from his godfather. He nodded. "I'll owl all the time. Wait up for it."

An awkward moment blanketed the room. Harry's fingers twitched at his sides, Sirius bit his bottom lip, and glanced awkwardly towards Dumbledore, who to no one's surprise, stood quite happily, fingers crossed on his ribs, smiling at both.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Right then, you'd best be off. To beat traffic."

"Come along Harry." said Dumbledore, leading him from the kitchen and up the steps to the main entrance. "Grab my arm, good man. On three now, say your goodbyes for now. 1 … 2 …"

"You'll visit, won't you Sirius!" Harry yelled down the corridor.

"3."

A loud pop and what felt like being hugged by Ms Weasley, and Harry found himself standing in the middle of a street. It was long and cramped and disappeared in a bend at both ends. Harry, rather dazed and confused by what happened, sung wildly around. Dumbledore towered alongside him, smiling brightly.

"Welcome to Palaver Street, Mr. Potter," he said.

The floor was made of greyish cobblestones and ever 3 or 4 metres an old fashioned street lamp hung. In front of him the shops looked modern. Harry spotted a post office, a medical centre, a sweet shop, a book shop and what looked very like a lingerie shop for women. Behind him there was a set of black railings with pointed tops, the ones used to prevent trespasser, a heavy duty gate sealed with a massive padlocked barred the entrance to what Harry made out as a playground. He could see beyond the big yellow slide and red swing set a stretch of field and in the distance, a set of head lights, from what Harry could only assume was a motorway.

"What just happened?" Harry asked, still looking quickly up and down the street, as if expecting to be suddenly ambushed. His eyes scanned the roofs of the shops, looking for any treacherous shadows, but nothing bar an estranged looking cat showed itself from behind a dustbin.

"What just happened is something you will someday have the misfortune of learning. Apparation. A powerful method of magic used to suddenly appear and disappear to the witch or wizards choice of location. As useful as it may seem, leaves an unfortunate twist in the gut." Dumbledore explained, patting his stomach.

Harry soon realised what he meant as a feeling of nausea crept upon him. However he did not have time to voice his concern, as Dumbledore turned swiftly on his heel and made off down the street. Following behind him, Harry swung his head from side to side. He felt just as he had all upon entering Diagon Alley with Hagrid all those years ago. For the most part, the street seemed filled with shops of various kinds - a pet shop, located next to a vet, a hair salon, located next to a music store and then a row of red bricked houses which disappeared around the bend.

"Professor, where are we, exactly?" Harry asked.

Professor Dumbledore came to a halt and turned to face an alley way located between a book shop and a sweet shop. Harry paused alongside him. The alley way was arched and nailed to the wall above it was a piece of metal with the letters 15 - 25 branded onto it. Harry frowned.

"I believe we have reached our destination," Dumbledore answered and set off down the alley way.

Harry followed him into the darkness and then reappeared in a dimly lit courtyard, surrounded by 10 grey houses situated alongside each other in a circle. Each house had dark slated tiles on the roof and a crumbling chimney. A patch of greenery was situated in the middle of the yard and a lone football lay on the grass. A curtain or two twitched and Harry saw a few shadows pass from inside the windows.

"Ah yes, number 21, here we are." Dumbledore finally announced, striding toward a house with a green door and a large brass knocker twisted into the shape of a what Harry could only describe as a large piece of dung. They waited momentarily until rummaging came from behind the door and someone jerked it open. A faint light crept onto the metre or so of cobble stone and bounced across the dark grass.

"Remus, thank you for hosting on such short notice." said Dumbledore.

"Not at all, Headmaster. More than deserved."

Harry's jaw dropped. The figure before him was one of an aged looking, yet youthful at heart man. Remus Lupin, his former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and friend stood before him. His robes, unlike the last time he had met Harry, looked well fitted and even in the dim light Harry could see a tint of healthy blush to his cheeks. Remus's hair looked every bit as auburn as the last time Harry checked, but he could still see the oncoming grey hairs and oddish tint of ageing colours.

"Hello again, Harry. I've heard of your adventures this evening." Remus smiled.

"Professor, I… I don't know what to say."

"Call me Remus, I am not longer your professor Harry, for now, I am a friend and mentor. Do, come in." he said, standing back and pointing the way.

They crossed the threshold and followed Remus down a tight carpeted hallway with a staircase at the end. He turned left and led them into a cosy sitting room. Harry took the scenery in. A maroon coloured couch faced a window concealed with floral patterned curtains; two matching plump chairs faced an old fashioned marble fire place, above which hung a large golden framed mirror. A vase of flowers and a box of matches lay upon the mantle piece, along with an empty cup. The walls were bare, except for the cream spiral patterned wall paper and the floor was heavily carpeted like the hall way. It was a small room, fit for no more than 4 people, but Harry thought it amazing ; warm and cosy, just like a living room should be. A light mahogany table sat in the middle of the room and a tray of tea and biscuits lay waiting.

"Remus, you shouldn't have," said Dumbledore, helping himself to a cream custard, "I absolutely do love cream custards. But I shant be staying. As you know well enough, business and preparation call."

Both wizards shared a knowing glance. "I shall leave you to get acquainted and find your way. I'll be in touch." With yet another pop, Professor Dumbledore disappeared in his usual abrupt manner.

Harry stood for the umpteenth time that night feeling awkward and not knowing what to do with himself. He itched to question Remus, but didn't want to be rude. He choose to scratching the back of his head instead and ruffled his hair.

"An old Potter trait, that is." Remus commented, smiling fondly up at Harry from the couch, "Do sit down Harry, make yourself comfortable. If I know Dumbledore at all, I'll know you are owed an explanation."

"What's an old Potter trait?" Harry asked quickly.

"Your father was always a looker Harry. Endless amount of time did he spend staring at his own reflection and countless hours did I spend trying to charm his hair into lying flat, only to have him ruffle it all up again when he was nervous. You're very like him, you know."

Harry smiled. He felt a bit more at ease now, hearing such fond tales of his father.

"But anyway, onto the topic at hand, why you're here." Remus poured Harry a cup of tea and moved it across the table.

"Dementors."

"Well yes, I heard you had a narrow escape with that one today, and with the ministry. But no use in crying over spilled milk, I hear it's all cleared up and dwelling on the past, as I'm sure you've heard before, does no good. The reason you are here Harry is for your own safety. Times are changing and things are beginning to shift rapidly out of place. The ministry of magic has taken up a new council and old powers have been resigned. Fudge has personally seen to it that anyone supporting your claims are swiftly removed from office. He's becoming reckless and dangerous. Just last week new restrictions were made allowing Inquisitors be placed in all major schooling institutions in England, to ensure correct procedures are been taken."

"There's more than Hogwarts? And what procedures? Like, proper teaching?"

"Oh there's more than Hogwarts yes, far more. Some students cannot afford to attend major schools such as Hogwarts, likewise some cannot travel, so ministry allows for community schools, almost like little muggle schools, be set up in distant communities, after all, wizarding blood must be trained properly. Merlin knows only the damage that a full grown untrained wizard could cause."

"And procedures?" Harry pressed on.

"Procedures being that no one preach the return of Voldemort. Fudge thinks you're lying. Have you seen the daily prophet headlines?"

Harry scowled and nodded. He had seen the lies, the scandals and claims of him being mad and loony. "There lies!"

"Well of course they are! But try telling that to Fudge. He's refusing to believe it, can you blame him? If only it were all wrong. Not that I'm saying you're lying Harry, I completely support you, but times were so hard back then, so terrible and cold." Remus paused for a moment, his eyes flickering to the scar that rest behind Harry's fringe. "They would have been proud of you, you know that, don't you?"

Harry nodded. "I know. Everyone tells me."

Remus smiled softly. "It's a nice little place here. Lot's of people around your age, very settled community. Like any community though you'll have the strange folk, the ones to avoid, the ones who gossip and so on. You'll soon learn whose who and who can be trusted. I only ask you remember that you are a wizard amongst muggles, keep everything on the down low."

"Sirius might visit." Harry said, smiling at Remus. "I said I'd owl him. I bet he'd love to see you, we could do something together."

Remus cleared his throat and smiled a small smile. Harry had a feeling it was a strained smile as a flint of something Harry didn't recognise etched it's way onto the scarred face. "There's also something you should know. It will not be just the both of us living here, Harry. I have been for sometime living with a… a partner of mine. Someone you are familiar with. I only ask you try to understand."

"What do you mean?"

"My partner is Severus Snape or Professor Snape to you, Harry. We have been courting for some time. This is his house. I live here with him."

"You're dating SNAPE?" Harry gasped. He could feel his jaw hanging loosely. "That's … that's fine, I mean, there's nothing wrong with you know… being that way and stuff, it's just a bit… well, you know. Snape?"

"I know you two don't exactly get along. I've seen it personally while I taught you and believe me Harry, I know he can be a bit cold but please remember that without him, you would have no where to stay for the summer. He has been kind enough to take you in and allow you reside here."

Harry felt uneasy again. Professor Snape didn't just hate Harry, he despised Harry. Snape despised anything Gryffindor, anything teenage, and especially anything Potter. Every year since Harry's arrival to Hogwarts, there had been some sort of misunderstanding between him and Snape. The mangled leg in his first year, the flying car in his second year, the shrieking shack in his third year, the missing potion ingredients last year, not to mention the fact that Harry completely distrusted Snape's loyalties. How could Remus even think twice about Snape? Yet, how could he judge Remus's actions, who was he to judge?

"Thank you for letting me stay, Remus," said Harry, allowing a small smile, "It was very kind too of Sna - Professor Snape to let me stay."

Remus sighed. "Thank you too, Harry, for being so understanding. Right now, you will not be meeting Professor Snape, he is currently held up with Order activity. But you'll meet him at breakfast. But for now, I think you've had a long day. Perhaps retiring to bed is the best option."

Harry agreed and sent Remus an appreciated yawn. He allowed himself be led back into the hallway and up the wooden stairs. Every second stair creaked and an icy draft seemed to linger particularly around the top of the stairs.

"Just a recognition charm," Remus explained when Harry shivered, "There are a lot of charms on the house. Your presence here is new to them at the moment, but you'll soon grow accustom."

Remus stopped at the top of the stairs and pointed to a door on the left. "That's the bathroom. I don't advise a shower late at night, Severus is the only one who does that, so he adjusts the water heating to switch off at night as he prefers cold showers."

Remus then pointed to a door opposite the bathroom. "That's a spare room. There's not much in there, we mostly use it for extra storage, so feel free to take advantage of it." He then led Harry down a corridor. "This is our room. I'd ask you to please refrain from going in there, for obvious reasons." Harry didn't think he'd ever in his lifetime want or need a reason to refine himself to a bedroom occupied by Snape. "And this is your room," said Remus, opening a door at the end of the corridor. Harry noted that the distance between himself and Snape wasn't that great and only hoped his door had a lock and key, all the same, he appreciated the space.

Stepping in he immediately took a liking to the room. It was large, which Harry greatly appreciated. His room at the Dursley's was small and cramped and the carpet smelled of rot and death after Hedwig's nightly scavenges. There were two beds in the room, a double and a single. Both were covered in dark blue sheets and had underneath storage space. A large desk was placed against the wall between the beds. A closet lay at the foot of the single bed and shelves were placed on either side of the room. The only light shone from a little sky light in the ceiling. Harry liked this, as part of the light reached over the double bed, which would allow him stare at the night sky. Overall he liked the room. It was neat and tidy.

"I hope you like it," said Remus. "You can do as you wish with it and I'm sure the space is more than adequate. I'll let you settle in. You'll find your trunk and Hedwig's cage beneath the bed. I'll call you for breakfast in the morning. Good night."

"Thank you. Goodnight."

Harry flopped onto the double bed and stared out at the night sky. Somewhere within him he tried to piece it all together - Dementors, Sirius, Order, Remus and Snape, new house. Before he even had the chance to question Remus's relationship again, his eyes had shut and he settled into a night plagued with the familiar startling green light and screams.

**tbc ...**

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_There you all have it, Chapter one. What do you think? Hope to see you in the next chapter when Severus meets Harry and the ground rules of Palaver street are established. _


	2. Palaver Street

_Welcome to those who have just tuned in. Aloha, to those familar faces. Do take a seat by the fire, pour a shot of chocolate milk and help yourself to a Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Bean cookie. There free, you know. _

_As always, I own nothing, it is all J.K Rowling's. _

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Harry woke with a lurch. His initial reaction was to begin scrambling from the bed in a desperate attempt to beat Dudley to the breakfast table, however as he tried to remove himself from his cosy haven, his right knee met a solid wall and he yelped. Clutching his throbbing knee cap he looked around him and mentally scowled. He had completely forgotten about where he was and sighing, he slid off of the left side of the bed and began rummaging through his trunk for a fresh pair of clothes. As he rummaged, Harry tried to shake the unease that brewed deep within his stomach. He had dreamt that dream again, the one where Cedric Diggory's face loomed just within his reach but was replaced with a blinding green light. It was formality at this stage for Harry to wake in a sweat, his heart beating wildly and his mind racing with horror and destruction.

After pulling on a pair of jeans and a hooded jumper, Harry stood distantly in the middle of the room. He was unsure of what to do with himself. His eyes rested on the empty cage belonging to Hedwig and he wondered where she was. He hoped she had returned to the Burrow and maybe Ron was in the middle of writing him a letter. His mood lightened. Harry had little contact with his friends this summer. His uncle had refused to allow Hedwig roam freely around his bedroom, so Harry had no other option but to let her roam freely outside, occasionally sneaking her in at the dead of night to retrieve the odd correspondence or two. Turning on the spot, Harry eyed the shelves on the wall, they were bare except for one, upon which lay a small leather bound book. Cautiously looking over his shoulder, he knelt on the single bed and reached for the book on the shelf. He felt edgy even being on this side of the room. Realistically Harry knew there was no one who could see him, but the fact that Severus Snape resided no more than a few meters away kept Harry on his guard. He strained his ears before unpinning the strap and flicked the book open. It was a muggle book, no doubt at that, but what the pages contained puzzled him. Drawings of all kinds were imprinted on the page; dragons, flowers, broomsticks, stick men and even a Hogwarts Shield. Puzzled at this, Harry examined the cover of the book in the hopes of putting a name on the artist, but nothing obvious struck him. On the spine of the book, the letters FINN were scratched into the leather. A sudden knock on the door caused Harry to drop the book. He quickly kicked it under the bed and stuttered a reply. The door opened and Remus popped his head around.

"Are you alright Harry?" he asked, eyeing the young wizards stunned complexion.

Harry nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. Just forgot where I was is all," he smiled meekly.

Remus chortled and opened the door fully. "Breakfast is ready on the table. I hope you're used to eating this early." He escorted Harry down the hall and down the creaking stairs. This time, they stopped outside the only other door downstairs. Harry was readily expecting Snape to be sitting at the table, a scowl plastered across his sallow face and his usual attire of dismal swooping robes. However what Harry saw was fit only for Hogwarts gossip. Standing above an old black stove stood not what Harry recognised as Professor Snape. Rather, there stood a man dressed in dark pants, much like the ones he wore teaching; Snape also wore a crisp white shirt, buttoned neatly at the wrists and a dark blue woollen vest . His hair hung the same, however, loosely around his face yet somehow seemed a lot lighter and far less greasy on his head. Harry glanced at Remus, raising an eyebrow.

"Severus, this looks amazing. Thank you for preparing it." said Remus, smiling up at the Professor.

Severus replied with a sharp grunt, then drew his gaze to Harry. "Welcome to Palaver Street, Mr Potter," he said. Harry noted the silky threat reserved especially for him that Snape kept hidden deep within his voice, but not as deep could be mistaken. "I trust your stay here will be _interesting_."

"Harry was just saying last night, before he turned in for the night, that he's very grateful for your hospitality. I've already settled him in, explained the off limit areas and all that. " chirped Remus, "Oh, are those the eggs with the soft centre? I do really love those."

Severus kept his eyes rooted firmly on Harry's head throughout the entire breakfast. He noted each and every angle of the boys face, scowling deeply at the scar on his forehead and ever deeper at Harry's unsightly hair. _Potter_, he thought to himself. Occasionally, he noted the edgy flinching movements Harry made whenever he caught his eye. Severus made no secret of the fact he enjoyed how students cowered before him. Control and perfection were in his books, the key to success and respect. He didn't like the idea of Potter staying in his house for the summer, he only wished he had reached the Floo fire before Remus had, that way he'd have quickly seen Dumbledore on his way.

"I want a word with you Potter, after breakfast," Severus announced, standing up from the table. "You will meet me when you have finished your meal in the living room."

"OK."

Severus scowled. He left the room, allowing the door to bang behind him. Harry looked to Remus and smiled softly.

"I know what you're thinking," Remus said, a small smile playing on his lips, " But really, he's not that bad."

"I respect your judgment, Remus, but I can't ever see myself and Snape getting along." Harry stabbed a piece of egg with his fork. "He's a good cook though."

"Credit where credit due, I suppose." Remus agreed, stabbing his egg yolk with a slice of toast.

0000

In the living room, Severus Snape stood impatiently next to the fireplace. His dark eyes were glued to the window and he scowled deeply at the figure of a tall, thin woman. To Severus, she had always reminded him of a back alley Marylin Monroe. Her peroxide blonde hair and tight leopard print pants were to much for his eyes and he shuddered lightly, setting his gaze back to a spot on the carpet. A knock on the door signalled Harry's arrival and he barked an "Enter." He watched the boy skulk into the room, cautiously glancing around him.

"Sit." he commanded, pointing to one of the single chairs. "Stay."

Harry scowled. Temptation fought to overcome him and his mind whirled with smart remarks he had been practicing all summer in the hopes one day, he'd have the nerve to actually use them. Severus however allowed little opportunity and pointed to the window.

"This is Palaver Street." he said simply. "While here you are beneath my charge. You will do as I say, move as I say and show absolute respect and gratitude at all times. I will tolerate zero nonsense from you. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes _sir_." Harry emphasized through gritted teeth.

Severus took a step forward and glared down his nose at Harry. "There is much to learn about this area. You will at all times remain within this circle of houses until permission is granted from myself to remove your presence. I will be watching at all times. One wrong move and you will find yourself carted without a moments hesitation straight back to Little Whinging."

"Yes sir."

"There are many rules to learn while here, Potter and I'll take my time to mention them just once, so open those ears." Severus walked to the window. "There are certain people within this area who will without a moments hesitation destroy you. You will figure out for yourself whom you can and cannot socialise with. They will choose you and will not care about who you are, what privileges you have in life. Celebrities are not welcomed here, Mr Potter."

"Best hope no celebrities make an appearance then, sir" Harry challenged, narrowing his eyes. The nerve of Snape, he thought.

"It will do you well Potter to learn that smart comments will earn you punishments in this house. Any rule breaking and you will find yourself withering the summer away in the attic cleaning out cauldrons! Don't forget that the Headmaster isn't here to wash away your foolish errors."

There was a pause. Severus took the time to glance out the window again, where the tall blonde lady was returning with a brown paper bag. He marvelled at her ability to steady those spindly legs in such high plat formed shoes. "Stand here Potter," he said, pointing to a spot at his side. Harry obeyed, though slowly, taking his time to approach the window, the only form of spite he could manage without being to obvious.

"That woman there is Ms. Truman," Severus said. Harry looked at the lady who fumbled with a key, hopelessly trying to jam it into the lock of number 16. "At all times you will avoid this woman. She is not a friend of mine, nor Professor Lupin's."

"OK, sir," Harry agreed.

"Then we're clear Potter. You may now take this time to wonder outside in the terrace."

Harry nodded and made for the door. As he crossed the threshold he heard Snape bark after him. "One error Potter, one _single _error and you're _gone_." He closed the door and exited the house.

Outside the morning sun crept across the grass and lit the circle of houses magnificently, reflecting against the shiny brass door knockers, each from what he could see were shaped like Dung. Harry stood on the step of the house and looked around him. The blonde lady had finally managed to enter her home, but Harry couldn't help but wonder why Snape had warned him against her. In fact, Harry wondered a lot of things about Palaver Street. How did people here at all manage to get along with each other? The circle of houses together seemed very cramped and there was little room for personal space. The houses were tiny, just two downstairs rooms. The upstairs wasn't to bad, he thought, at least he had his own space there, that was quite spacious.

He began scraping a stone along the step with the sole of his shoe, scratching various lines into the cement. He was awfully bored, and then his eyes found the lone ball still in the middle of the grass. He looked around him and with no sign of life, walked to the ball. He supposed someone wouldn't mind, after all it mustn't be a very special ball to say it was left lying around for just anyone to use. He tapped it lightly with his toe, then attempted a few solo kicks. He had once seen Dudley do this, where one continuously kicks the ball into the air using their foot and knee. His ridiculous attempt however sent the ball bouncing to the other side of the field. He followed and attempted again.

"Oi! Get yer hands of tha' ball!"

Harry looked across the little green to see a small boy of about 5 years old stood at the doorway of number 23. The boy had a thick head of curly brown hair. He wore a thick woollen jumper and a pair of dark jeans, stained green at the knees from sliding along the grass. In his hand, he brandished a stick.

"I told yes get away from me ball," he yelled again, crossing the field to Harry.

Harry stared. He was confused at how to treat the situation. "Er, sorry, kid," he said, taking a step back, "I didn't know it was yours, it was just lying there when I came out."

The boy slapped the stick of the floor. "That don't mean you take what aint yours! You's waits til ye finds out and then yes ask nicely."

"Alright, sorry." Harry hated to admit it, but he felt rather intimidated by the wild looking child. That stick looked particularly dangerous, especially with those branches hanging from it.

"What's yer name?" the child asked, eyeing Harry up and down. "You talks different to me. So yer not from here."

"I'm Harry and you're right, I'm not from here."

The child looked Harry up and down again, then jabbed him in the foot with his stick. Harry jerked his foot away.

"You can't go hitting people with that stick," he barked, allowing his hand to rest on the waist band of his jeans where his wand was tucked away safely. The boy smirked at Harry, displaying a grin with a missing front teeth, and then he thumped the stick against the floor.

"Gerry Timothy O' Brien!" yelled a woman from the doorway of number 23. The boy threw the stick at Harry and spun around. The woman stepped from her doorway and took large and quick strides towards Harry and who he now knew was Gerry Timothy O' Brien. She was a large lady, with long auburn hair falling in thick waves towards her shoulders. She wore a white blouse and a green floral cooking apron, covering her dark patched skirt. She reminded Harry of someone. "How dare ye wave tha stick about'. As if yer somebody important! Say yer sorry!"

"But ma', he tried to take me ball!" Gerry Timothy O' Brien protested, frantically pointing at Harry, "I seed him meself , he were kickin' it up and down the green."

"Then thas yer own fualt for leavin' it out all night, now say yers sorry, or by heavens I'll have yer father out onto you." The lady stood with her hands placed firmly on her hips. "I haven' got all day so do it quickly."

Gerry Timothy O' Brien turned to Harry and glared up at him. His bottom lip stuck out, and Harry inwardly smirked as he saw the boy fighting his inner child in the hopes of looking tough and strong in front of him. "I'm sorry fer thumpin' me stick at ya like that. I won't do it again."

Harry nodded, a bit unhinged and embarrassed by the scene he had caused. He saw from within a few houses curtains twitching and a few neighbours had even dared to open their front doors a crack. He quickly glanced to Snape's house; luckily no sign of movement. "It's - it's ok, honestly, it's alright. Em.. I'm sure he didn't mean it."

The lady grasped the boys shoulder and pushed him in the direction of the house. "Get inta that house you and ate your breakfast before it goes cold." she ordered, tutting and shaking her head as he scampered across the field. "I do apologise 'bout tha," she said, turning to Harry. "He's me second youngest. Bit of a wild one, get's it from his father. You're not a familiar face here at all."

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter. I'm staying in number 23, with my uncle. He'll be looking after me, bit of a summer holiday." Harry said, secretly chuffed at his ability to come up with such a story on the spot.

"Ah yes, Severus and Remus," the mother said, her rosy cheeks lifted into a big grin, "A lovely couple they are, very fond of them meself, I am. Why Severus only just yesterday gave me a batch of something' sweet smellin' that straight away broke my little one's cough. Poor creature was hackin' up phlegm for days until Severus came ter the rescue yet again! I'm Mrs O' Brien, by the way. Or yes can jus' call me Dorothy, most roun' here do."

"Thank you, Mrs O' Brien. I'll tell my uncle you were asking."

"MAAAAAAAAAAM! HE ATE ME SLICE OF TOAST!" Gerry Timothy O' Brien roared from the door step of his home.

"Kill em I will, kill um all!" she muttered, shaking her head and turning back to the house, "Have a lovely mornin' Harry, we'll be seein' yes later I'm sure."

Harry watched her retreat and couldn't help but smirk broadly when she caught Gerry Timothy O' Brien by the ear and dragged him howling back into the house. He presumed playing with the ball would be safe , now that the wild 5 year old was being held hostage at the breakfast table. Harry took to kicking the ball against a wall between houses 18 and 19. The wall was cracked in various places and what looked like large chunks, just big enough for feet had been purposely dug out of it. He wondered if having a peep over the wall was a wise idea, but quickly thought against it when he saw Remus retreating from the house.

"Having fun Harry?" he asked, tucking a book beneath his arm.

Harry shrugged. "It's alright." he said.

Remus patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. There's a few kids here about your age, you'll quickly meet them and make friends. The summer will fly and before you know it you'll be back at Hogwarts. Would you like to accompany me to the book store? I'm returning a book for Severus, seems he's had a bit of a tiff with the store owner and has gotten himself barred."

Harry chuckled. The idea of the feared potions master being chucked out of a shop by the scruff of the neck remained with him the whole way to the store and even more so when Harry saw how small and thin the store owner looked compared to the tall and broad features of Snape. Remus successfully returned the book and decided that a round of ice cream was in order.

"Thank Remus," Harry said, accepting the chocolate ice cream.

They walked silently up the street and stopped to lean against the black gates which Harry noticed as the entrance to the play park from his arrival last night. "Where exactly are we?" he asked.

"The outskirts of London, I believe." Remus said, licking strawberry ice cream from his knuckles. "I never knew this place existed myself until I came here with Severus. I do believe we're not exactly in the suburbs, but we aren't in the country side either."

"So we're just in the middle?"

"More or less. This area is developed on land which used to belong to a large chemical plant. It was shut down, according to Severus, back in the early 80's. Something to do with Hippies protesting and tying themselves to chemical barrels. Anyway, seeing as an economy boom occurred for the muggles at that time, they found finance to stretch there living estates this far out."

"It's a bit of a strange place. The area looks very urban; lot's of greenery, space, cobble stone. But the people… the people are very…"

"Inner city slum?" Remus smiled.

Harry blushed. He had wanted to tell Remus about his encounter with a fraction of the O' Brien family, but feared it would earn him punishment if Severus found out. "I didn't want to be rude about it, but yeah, very slum. They talk with a twang and some of the children look a bit rugged."

Remus waved and wished an elderly man good morning and then nodded politely to a boy of about Harry's age. "That's Mr Jenkin's who just saluted me," he said, "He's a lovely old man, very gentle, but did himself some serious harm reputation wise when his wife was found wondering hopelessly and battered around the street. Apparently they had an argument, he lost his cool and threw a plate or two - Severus speculates a first or three. Harmless old chap, really, despite the allegations." Harry gawped after him. The man looked as fragile as a china set. Harry couldn't imagine him harming a fly. "The young boy was Peter Morgan. He works in the pet shop. Nice lad, might be worth your while getting to know him. Very bright."

Harry nodded. "So, is it just us. I mean like, are there any more houses around here?"

"If you walk down a bit there's another little tunnel just like ours. Houses 1 -14 are in there and if you walked up there a bit, you'll find houses 26 - 35. Seems like a small community, but most houses have families in them. I'd advise avoiding areas that aren't yours, Harry. It'll take some time to adjust to the living ways of Palaver Street. It's a very nice and settled community, but people are very territorial. Mostly the teenagers; they fight each other for space, then usually get the younger kids to cause problems around the streets. Some adults too are pathetic enough to get involved. Best stick to your own area."

Harry nodded and followed Remus back to the house. It was a lot to remember in such a short space of time. Palaver Street was sounding more and more like a criminal ghetto every minute and Harry's experience so far hadn't been too welcoming. Already he'd found himself an enemy in a branch wielding 5 year old and by the sounds of it, there were more than just one O' Brien.

Harry decided against staying outside, there wasn't much to do anyway in a circle of houses. Instead he chose to help Remus tidy the kitchen. It was a nice little kitchen. Welcoming, with the black gas stove, cream wooden cupboards and a tidy little spice rack. The window was curtained again in flowers, Harry never gathered Snape to be the floral type, but shrugged it off anyway, storing it in the back of his mind for later gossip at Hogwarts. He was about to turn the conversation towards Sirius, when Severus entered the kitchen. He was holding a black cauldron which smelled of rot. The fumes emitted swirled around the kitchen and swiftly up Harry's nose.

"What is that?" he gasped, covering the bottom half of his face with his hood.

"Not at all interesting you don't recognise a first year potion, Potter," Severus chimed, tilting the murky liquid down the sink. It plopped into the sink in blobs, sizzling occasionally. Harry choose to ignore Snape's remark, instead scowled at the back of his head. "Remus, can you not stand and stare. It's dripping on the floor!"

Remus quickly dashed to his side and mopped the spill up. Severus dropped the cauldron into the sink and turned on his heel. "Clean that cauldron, Potter!" he barked, slamming the door for the second time that morning.

"I do apologise for his behaviour, Harry." Remus said, still on his knees, scrubbing the stained floor. "He gets awfully crabby after a failed brew. Could you open that window, the smell really is disgusting."

Harry threw the window open, grateful for the blanket of fresh air that wafted in. He set to scrubbing the cauldron, vigorously rubbing the thick crust which was forming at the base. He couldn't understand why Snape had snapped at Remus, after all it wasn't Remus who had spilled the potion in the first place. It was that git Snape's fault for being clumsy!

"You didn't spill that potion Remus," Harry snapped.

"I know, Harry. Severus did." Remus said casually, turning to fold some laundry.

"Then why'd he bark at you to clean it up?"

Remus shrugged. "Stress."

Harry sighed and continued scrubbing the cauldron. Silence maintained between them, until Harry excused himself to go to the bathroom. He heard Severus exit the spare room, before he had time to shut the bathroom door and the hooting of an owl jerked Harry's ears to attention. He left a crack in the door, and peeped cautiously out. He saw Severus feed the tawny owl a treat, before it flew back into the spare room and more than likely out the window. Harry watched as his professor unfolded the letter and scanned it, his dark eyes flicking back and forth. He knew it was wrong to ease drop and nose, but right now his opinion of Severus was equal to his opinion of Draco Malfoy. Both were slime in his eyes.

The potion masters reaction to the letter surprised Harry far more than anything. A pink tinge flushed his cheeks and his hands shook. He then clenched his fists, crinkling one half of the letter in the process and stormed down the stairs. Harry by instinct flung the bathroom door open and abandoned his protesting bladder. He slipped down the stairs after Severus and followed him into the kitchen.

"OUT!" Severus yelled.

"But I was just wondering -"

"What did I say about errors, Potter!" He pushed Harry out of the room and slammed the door shut. Harry presumed a silencing charm had been cast on Severus's behalf, so he retreated to his bedroom., his fists clenched angrily at his sides. What was in that letter? Why was Snape so angry? What about Remus? He flopped miserably onto his bed and glowered up at the ceiling.

* * *

**To come: What was in that letter? Why is Severus so narky and what are the opinions of the rest of the O' Brien family on Harry?**

_**Mitremlamp**: Thank you for being my very first reviewer. I do hope to see you presence through to the final chapter._

_**DarkestAngel113**: I do hope this update was quick enough for you?_

_**Kayapride**: Thank you and stay tuned if you wish to see where I take this story. I assure you there will be many adventures, many loved characters and a bit of everything thrown together. We'll see what we come up with in the end!_

_**Felinity**: Alas, the grammar errors are a meer result of attending college. I was such an avid writer before I began college, had myself numerous accounts here on , all very amatuer, now that I look back on them. Search the penname ValidHacker - One of my very first accounts :( All abandoned stories now. Just a handful among the basketfull. Having attended college I had to abandone my writing and so with it, my English skills. But no fears! With practice comes perfection. Oh, and thank you very much for your review! Hope to see you in future chapters!_

_Thank you also to those you favourited and alerted this story. Do continue to follow along. _


	3. The O' Brians

_Hello, Hello, Hello. I do realise that yes, this was a bit of a delayed chapter however, in the words of Albus Dumbledore "Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" I feel that those four words should suffice and provide explanation in their own form. Now, this chapter is shorter than the others but do sit tight, I assure many twists, many issues, many questions and many encounters with familiar faces!_

_Also, a little fun fact for the readers. Today, Ausgut 4th, happen to be yours truelys birthday. A round of happy birthdays are in order, I think?_

_As always, I own nothing. Do review and let me know what you think. Have any questions? Speculations or accusations? Tell me._

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Later that day, Harry found himself sitting in the living room and staring out the window. His chin was propped against the palm of his left hand while the fingers of his free hand drummed tunelessly against the arm of the chair. On the couch, Remus sat reading the Daily Prophet, his lips moving soundlessly and occasionally he'd scoff, and quote some nonsense or other regarding Minister Fudge. Harry was unsure of where Severus had retreated to. He had left the house not long after lunch in another fowl mood, characteristically, slamming the front door behind him. Harry had asked Remus as a joke that perhaps they should begin taking bets on how many times a day the door would be slammed.

The inhabitants of Palaver Street had begun to spill onto the green. People of all ages pulled little stools from behind their doors and sat against the walls of their houses, enjoying the suns rays and chatting to each other. Harry spotted Gerry Timothy O' Brien, once again armed with his stick and hitting his ball around the field with it. Mrs O' Brien sat on a red milk crate, her back leaning against the wall of her house and a set of knitting needles in her hands. A man, whom Harry speculated to be around Uncle Vernon's age, perhaps a bit older, sat on the step by the front door. He wore a set of brown corduroy pants rolled up to the knees and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Harry assumed him to be the husband of Mrs O Brien and likewise, the father of the 5 year old wild child, as he had the same head of unruly curly brown hair. Harry also noticed other children with strikingly similar hair wonder in and out of the house. The blonde lady, Harry noticed, sat on a black and white striped chair painting her nails. There were a few others around the green, none of which he recognised, but had Remus had promised looked around his age, older and younger.

"Well there's no sense in moping around indoors all day," Remus decided, dropping the prophet and standing up to stretch, "Come. Let's go sit outside. I'll introduce you and you can go play with the other children."

Harry sulkily followed Remus out the door and sat on the step next to him, tracing patterns between the cobble stone. Day one and already he was bored half to death.

"Hello Ms. Cooney, how are you today?" Remus said, turning to face an elderly woman in the house next door. She was a small lady, with short hair and very wrinkled sun tanned skin. She wore a floral patterned dress, with a black shawl thrown over her shoulders and her bare feet lay in a dish of water.

"G'day Remus, aye we've not seen a day so pretty as such for long," she smiled and then nodded her head to Harry, "An' hello young man. Now who might you be?"

"I'm Harry Potter." he said, smiling at her.

"Severus's nephew," Remus added, "He'll be staying with us this summer for a bit of a holiday."

"Well I hope you enjoy yer time here Harry," she said, "You know, if yev nothing' to do on a Friday evenin', I could do with a hand collecting the weekly shopping from the grocery. I'd pay like, for yer troubles."

"He'd love to!" Remus chirped, patting Harry on the shoulder, "Wouldn't you?"

Harry nodded, "That'd be great! I'll call in every Friday." And genuinely, Harry felt a little bit better. At least now he'd have some pocket money to spend as he pleased. His trunk was full of galleons, sickles and knuts, not a muggle penny could he find. His mood lightened significantly and he didn't even mind how uncomfortable he felt in the heat. He sat happily, listening to Remus chat to Ms. Cooney and politely greeted the Postman when he came wondering through Palaver Street.

"Lo' Mr. Remus, Lo' Ms. Cooney," a familiar voice called from next to Harry. He looked up and groaned lightly. Gerry Timothy O' Brien stood next to him, smiling at Remus and holding his stick behind his back.

"Hello Gerry!" Remus greeted, smiling broadly at him, "How's your mother keeping?"

"Good, s'pose." He pointed his grubby finger in Harry's face. "S'he allowed come play?"

"Well I don't know, ask Harry, it's up to him whether or not he'd like to go and play."

Gerry stared at Harry, looking him up and down again. He smiled. "Wanna come play by my house. My ma' has a packet of cookies she says we can share and I can show yez me ball again."

Harry glanced at Remus, hoping his panic stricken look would be enough for the former Professor to understand. Remus either ignored it, or didn't understand; just nodded at Harry. Sighing, he stood up from the step. "Sure, I'll come play." He followed Gerry across the field toward his house.

"Hello again Harry!" Ms O' Brien greeted, smiling up at him. She elbowed the man next to her into the ribs. "This ere's Harry Potter. He's Severus's nephew, stayin' with um for the summer he is."

The curly haired man clasped Harry's hand in his own and shook it. "Nice te meet ye Harry. Me own names George and I see yev met me youngest boy Gerry. Heard all about' his carry on in the field this morning'." Mrs O' Brien threw a glance at his son, who smiled meekly. He then put a hand on the shoulder of another boy, who looked exactly like Gerry. "An' this ere's me eldest son, Liam." Liam nodded at Harry, who smiled down at him.

"Harry's come ta play wiv us and ta eat the cookies tha you have, Ma" Gerry announced, holding a dirty hand out in expectancy of the cookies.

Harry stuttered. "I - I'm just here to play and stuff, is all," he stuttered, shaking his head, "I'm not hungry at all. Honestly!"

The O' Brian parents smiled and Mrs O' Brian produced a small packet of cookies from her apron pocket, handing them to Liam. "Mind you share now, Liam." she warned, eyeing her son knowingly. He nodded back, his curls flopping in his face.

"Come on then, we'll go sit over there by the wall. T'is sunnier an' I prefers it there."

Harry ambled after the brothers, lagging behind awkwardly. He was aware of the looks he got, he was after all a new comer and he gathered that his sudden arrival had the terrace in a heap of whispers. Stopping alongside the brothers, he lowered himself down next to Liam.

"Now Gerry, yez can only have one cookie, cause yez is smaller and ye don't need that much energy," Liam decided, handing him a single cookie. "Meself and Harry'll have two a piece, cause we're bigger an' we needs the energy for all the runnin' around we'll be doin'." He dropped two cookies onto Harry's knees.

"That's not fair!" Gerry roared, his cheeks flushing red. "Gimmie another one or I'll tell me dad!" Gerry sharply slapped his brother across the ear and snatched at the packet of cookies. Liam howled and jumped up, clutching his ear.

"You're dead now Gerry, I'm showin' me mam!" Liam roared at him, running back across the field, closely followed by his younger brother, both boys shouting frantically for their mother.

Harry stood up and quickly shuffled back towards Remus. He felt that he'd had quite enough interaction with the O' Brian family and had a nasty feeling he wouldn't be seeing the end of them any time soon.

"I see you've met my brothers." a soft voice said from one of the doorsteps. Harry turned and his eyes fell upon a tall, slim girl of about 17 years old. She had long auburn curls in her hair and gleaming blue eyes. Her skin was a soft beige colour and her cheeks flushed a healthy pink. She smiled broadly at Harry, who found himself gawping back. "My name's Trisha O' Brian," she continued, stepping onto the cobble and continuing to smile. "They can be quite the handful can't they?"

Harry nodded, managing a goofy smile back. "I'm Harry."

"Just Harry?"

He blushed. "Sorry. I mean I'm Harry Potter. I'm staying over there, with my uncle Sna - Severus for the summer." he said, nodding towards where Remus sat, now talking to another of the neighbours. "And yeah, your brothers have proven to be a bit of a handful already."

She laughed at him, flicking her wavy hair over her left shoulder. "This here's Josie, me little sister," she said and Harry for the first time recognised a small toddler resting on her hip. She too looked the replica of each of the O' Brian children.

He nodded uncomfortably. Harry had never so much as spoken to a baby before and had absolutely no idea as to how he was to greet one. Especially one whom was eating the ends of Trisha's hair.

"Er.. She's eh, eating your hair." he said, pointing.

"Ah Josie, no! Naughty girl." Trisha scolded, pulling her hair over her shoulder. Josie simply laughed and bit onto Trisha's jumper, chewing on the fabric. Harry had the greatest inkling that Josie and Gerry O' Brian would one day terrorize the miniature population of Palaver Street.

"Oh, Severus!" Trisha suddenly beamed, waving wildly. Harry turned around with a groan and scowled. Striding across the grass towards them was the potions master himself. The hint of a glare crossed his eyes as he met Harry's gaze. "Josie's all better now, she is an' me mam was wantin' to thank you."

"I'm only a stones throw away, Trisha, just knock whenever need be." he said, nodding curtly. "I must now take Mr Potter inside. He will be undergoing some summer schooling this year, due to very unproductive and not surprising grades."

"Oh, bad luck, eh Harry." she said, "I'll talk to ye next time, I suppose."

Harry stood, mouth agape. Summer schooling? Unproductive and not surprising grades? He couldn't register the thoughts in his mind and didn't even notice the fierce pressure of Severus's hand being clamped onto his shoulder and him being steered aggressively back to the house.

"Get in." Severus snapped, pushing him over the threshold. He stumbled in the door, kneeing Remus into the shoulder on the way.

Harry heard the door slam shut behind him and he turned to face his professor. For some reason, this scenario reminded him very much of life with the Dursley's. Countless times had he come face to face with an angry guardian over unexpected trouble. Severus stepped closer, leering menacingly over him. He pulled something sharply out from his belt and Harry flinched. It was a letter. The emerald print and ruby seal let Harry know that it was a Hogwarts letter.

"Your results, Potter." Severus said through gritted teeth. "I must say, I was surprised you managed to get by at all last year, but not at all surprised your grades proved miserable."

Harry flinched, a speckle of spit erupted from Severus's mouth at the word miserable. "I want to see this letter." Harry said. It was more of a statement than a question, after all it was addressed to him and now come to think of it, Snape had no rights whatsoever in opening it. He stuck his hand out.

Severus flicked the letter back towards his shoulder. "You shall see it once I have finished inspecting it."

"It's my letter and it's addressed to me. Those are my results. I have every right to see them!"

"And as your guardian, Potter!" he spat back, "I have every right to examine these and see forth a fitting study regime."

Harry growled lightly. He rammed his fists into his pockets to hide how white his knuckles had gone from clenching them tightly. This was typical Snape, he thought.

Severus pulled himself up straight and looked down his nose at Harry. "You may retire to your room until Supper. By then I will have erected a time tabled study plan for you. Go."

Harry considered challenging him on the issue and even halted on the spot for a second, but then remembered that whether he liked it or not, he was in the hands of Snape now and by the looks of it, Remus wasn't going to be any help anytime soon. As he stomped up the stairs, he just wished that he could at least have Hedwig by his side for company. He'd even consider writing a letter to the _Dursley's!_

_

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_

_DarkestAngel13: Severus is a very 3 dimensional person and it can be extremely difficult to read his moods accuratly. I suppose that's all a side effect of him having spent so long as a double agent. I have the greatest of sympathies for him. Poor old chap._

_Kayapride: Lovely to see you back in the game! Harry will always be nosey. I truely dislike him. He just will never learn to keep his nose out of others buisness and I assure you, this little characterisitc ofhis will get him into all sorts of trouble later on!_

_Felinity: I too have grown fond of Mrs O' Brian. She's one of those homely ladies who'll always have a smile to share._

_SnapesYukuai: The definition of Palaver that I am referring to his as follows, quoted directly from_

**_"Palaver [Puh-Lah-Ver]._**

**_- noun._**

**_3. profuse and idle talk ; chatter._**

**_- verb._**

**_1. to talk profusely and idly."_**

_Also, I've always loved a good healthy dose of Snupin Slash myself! I can also assure many more interactions between Harry, Severus and Remus and you'll be seeing a little more than what's considered a healthy dose of Gerry O' Brian. (The Bratty Child)_

_ **To come: Harry's study regime, more of the mysterious FINN and the art book and a few letters for Hedwig plus more. **_


End file.
